A Quick and Painless Death
by LadyFlamewing
Summary: Written as a birthday gift, another story that is more character exploration of Hiei than anything else. No pairing.


Disclaimer: I claim no rights to Yu Yu Hakusho, nor any related characters or merchandise, and make no profit from the writing or distribution of this work of fiction.

It's not every day that a fairly ordinary box garners such a suspicious glance. Admittedly, it's wrapped up in tastefully festive paper and garnished with a carefully curled bow, but that hardly seems cause for the withering gaze it's been suffering for nigh on a half-hour now.

"What _is_ it?"

Kurama gives the sigh of one who has suffered long and hard, and gained absolutely nothing from the experience - oddly enough, there is also a fondness behind the soft exhalation, one that comes from knowing just what kind of person he's dealing with.

"I've _told_ you what it is - it's a present. It's customary for humans to exchange them on special occasions. Like birthdays."

For a moment, Hiei switches the glare to the fox-demon sitting across the table from him, but that appears to have even _less_ effect than what he's been doing, so he drops his eyes again. To the box. That mysterious package, whose contents remain...well, a mystery, naturally.

Demons don't like mysteries. They don't even like curiosities. Things you don't know about get you killed. Hiei has a fairly powerful aversion to being killed - he's managed to avoid it so far, why change a good thing?

"It's not my birthday."

Kurama shrugs gracefully.

"You don't know when your birthday is," he points out. Sensing a possible means of escape, Hiei retorts quickly.

"Neither do you."

One slender finger is suddenly brandished at the fire-demon, who blinks once, gaze diverted from the box for a moment. He has the sneaking suspicion that his plan has just backfired - but he has no idea how right he is.

"Ah," Kurama says victoriously, "but Yukina has picked today as _her_ birthday, and being her twin, you must necessarily share a date of birth." He sits back in his chair, triumphant, and gestures at the box. Hiei glares at it again.

"Hence - present. Open it."

It's for more than a moment now that Hiei's gaze comes away from the box, but only because he thinks it _might_ have some effect to turn a scathingly incredulous glance on Kurama.

"_What?_"

Disappointingly, this doesn't seem to be working any better than the glaring. Damn.

"Open it," the fox-demon repeats, rather unhelpfully.

Hiei eyes the box again, with mounting distrust. The problem with things like this is that there's absolutely no way of knowing what's _inside_ the box. Admittedly, this is _Kurama_ - Hiei's known him for quite some time now, trusted the fox-demon with his life, saved Kurama's life a few times in return - it's probably unlikely that he's trying to stage some sort of clever assassination attempt.

On the other hand, this _is_ Kurama - the fox-demon is notoriously hard to read, and Hiei's never entirely sure that he knows _exactly_ what's going through Kurama's mind at any given moment.

He looks up again, and for a brief instant, catches something...soft, almost _caring_ on Kurama's face before the fox-demon schools his expression into ambiguous anticipation. He makes a little 'go on' motion with his pale hands that somehow still manages to be elegant, and Hiei snorts.

_What does it mean?_ Hiei wonders. He could sit here for hours and never understand it - that's just the way Kurama is. Almost completely unreadable, and even his slips - like that odd expression on his face - reveal surprisingly little.

Resigning himself - death will probably be quick, Kurama owes him at least that - Hiei reaches for the box, slicing through ribbon and paper at once with a sharp nail. With gritted teeth, he pulls the lid free and sets it aside, encouraged when nothing untoward happens. At least, not immediately.

Cautiously, he leans over and peers into the open box - only to look back up a moment later, in disbelief and more than a little confusion, into amused green eyes. There are no words exchanged, only another one of those inviting gestures that prompts Hiei to reach into the box and withdraw the contents.

They're throwing knives - a set of them - flawlessly weighted and wickedly sharp; they bite deep when Hiei runs a testing finger over one of the blades, and he hisses in surprise and licks at the blood until the flow slackens.

With that done, he wipes the tarnished blade carefully clean and sets the knives aside on the table before finally speaking.

"I don't understand." The knives are of a quality Hiei has rarely seen, and must have cost Kurama a _fortune_, whether in the money spent to purchase them or the time spent to steal them. So why is he giving them away?

Inexplicably, Kurama's smile broadens. "Do you like them?" he asks, and Hiei's brow furrows. It seems an odd question, and it's a long while before he can formulate a proper response.

"They should prove...useful," he answers slowly, honestly.

At this, Kurama laughs: a soft, pleased sound that does absolutely nothing to alleviate Hiei's confusion.

"I suppose that will have to do for now," he says, almost to himself, and laughs again. Hiei only shakes his head.

He'll _never_ understand Kurama.


End file.
